Clay moved in this past weekend and, as expected, I already have a story you just will not believe so I am telling you right now that, though this post will probably be long, you have GOT to find a way to suffer through it until the very end or you’re gonna miss out on hearing what a total idiot I was in front of his parents and, really, who would want to miss that?

But first things first.

I wanted to be a good neighbor (read: I wanted to go ahead and earn some points to later redeem when I need him to hang some pictures in my house for me), so I made him a little “welcome to the neighborhood except you and I are the only ones who really live here” basket.

I realize that Febreze and Cherrios aren’t necessarily the most darling gift basket items, but remember that we’re dealing with a boy here.

Which totally explains why I felt the need to wrap it up and tie a piece of blue netting on the front.

Clay’s parents came up with him, which was very exciting since I’ve never met them before although I have admired his mother’s hair in just about every picture he’s ever posted of her on his blog. To see THE hair in person was a bit overwhelming because, seriously, IT IS GORGEOUS.

Clay’s mom may have felt a bit overwhelmed as well when I put a camera in her face and said “CanIpleasetakeapictureofyourhairformyblog?” whilst going ahead and taking the picture just in case she said no.

For the record, this picture is blurry because I was still asking the question whilst taking it and hadn’t exactly received a yes or no before the flash went off. What can I say? Sometimes it’s just easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

After changing out of my church clothes on Sunday afternoon, I went next door to help Clay and his parents load up some stuff that had been left outside by the previous tenant. At this point in the blog, I would like to suggest you stop reading if you are “squirmish-y” (made it up because there is no existing word strong enough for this story) at all because I am about to tell you a story THAT WILL MAKE YOUR SKIN CRAWL.

You have been warned.

So we’re loading all this junk into a truck to take it to Goodwill when Clay asks me to help him as he pulls some blankets off a couch. I ever so gently refuse to be involved in said task mainly because HE MUST HAVE TAKEN ME FOR A FOOL IF HE THOUGHT I WAS GONNA GET CLOSE TO A NASTY OLD COUCH WITH BLANKETS ON IT.

Clay told me he just needed me to hold the garbage bag for him and I reluctantly agreed. He began putting blankets in the bag as I repeatedly — REPEATEDLY — said “Clay? Are you sure there’s no mice or snakes or anything? Clay? CLAY, ARE YOU SURE?” Clay’s response was to reply indicating that, if there were any little vermin, we would have already seen them by now.

As Clay is saying these very words to me, he reaches down for the next blanket and I happen to notice that, sitting on top of it, IS A NEST OF BABY RATS.

I feel like I need to pause right now so y’all can really let that sink in for a second. A nest of baby rats. A nest of baby rats. A NEST OF BABY RATS WITHIN A FEW INCHES OF MY BODY.

Clay’s hand was getting closer to them but he didn’t realize it ’cause he was still looking at me. Right about the time he saw the look of terror come across my face, I let out a scream that could rival anything your child has ever done in the candy aisle at the grocery store. I took off running and I just did not stop. I ran down Clay’s driveway, then down mine and ended up at the road you turn off of to get to our houses. Clay’s dad told me later that he had no idea a girl could run that fast and I told him that it’s amazing what you can do WHEN YOUR LIFE IS IN GRAVE DANGER.

Speaking of Clay’s dad, he’s a former minister which is important for me to note before I tell you that, whilst running from the little zoo on the couch, I yelled a word that would be considered “mildly offensive” by the general public. It hit me that I was yelling that in front of a minister so I told myself to quit yelling that but somehow the message got mixed up on its way from my brain to my mouth and I instead began screaming a word that was so bad I’m gonna have to wash my own mouth out with soap.  Even worse, I continued screaming said word until I made it all the way to the road EVEN THOUGH I WAS BEGGING MYSELF TO STOP SAYING NAUGHTY WORDS EVEN IN THE MIDST OF WHAT WAS OBVIOUSLY A CRISIS SITUATION.

It wasn’t exactly my proudest moment but let’s just say that Clay’s family will never forget the first time they met me. Can’t imagine leaving a more lasting impression, you know?

When I had taken off running, Clay threw the other blanket back down on the couch in an attempt to trap the little rat babies from moving until he and his dad could figure out what to do. When they picked the blanket back up to see if they were still under there, guess who had come out to play?

MAMA RAT.

Now I didn’t see this beast ’cause I was still down at the road frantically trying to flag down an emergency vehicle because HELLO, WE OBVIOUSLY HAVE A LEVEL FIVE EMERGENCY HAPPENING HERE but Clay and his dad said the mama was as long as their elbow to their wrist AND THAT MEASUREMENT DOES NOT INCLUDE THE TAIL, PEOPLE. IT DOES NOT INCLUDE THE TAIL, DO YOU HEAR WHAT I AM TELLING YOU?

The rats were then disposed of.  (AB note: I deleted the explanation of how they got rid of the rats after a few readers mentioned their concern about it.  For anyone it offended, I apologize!)

Five minutes later, Clay’s mom cut her food on a piece of glass and, before you knew it, she was in my car and we were on our way to an emergency walk-in clinic BECAUSE COULD THIS DAY HAVE GONE ANY WORSE?

Actually, now that I think about it, don’t answer that question. Those rats could’ve nibbled her toes off or, even worse, messed up that perfect head of hair of hers.

Yes, it could have been much, much worse.